Blood Bound
by Jemmz
Summary: OC fic. Logan Christopher has cut all ties with his family, but when the world ends he is forced to revisit his past and face some ugly truths. In the chaos of the new world where danger is around every corner, Logan has to learn to finally find his place, to form a new family. But most importantly, he has to learn to survive. (Andrea/OC).
1. Chapter 1 - Logan

**Blood Bound**

 **A/N: This is an OC fic for my TWD OCs, Ali and Logan. I have vidded for them in collabs but this is my first time writing for them! Special thanks to my friend Kat (littletonpace) for helping me so much with these characters and for proof-reading my fic!**

* * *

 **Logan**

He's been walking for hours now. As he battles to put one foot in front of the other, he feels every ache, every throbbing pain in his bones. Like his muscles are made of rotting wood and he's gradually eroding to nothing.

There's less of those... _things_ out here. It's almost peaceful, like the countryside is meant to be. But every now and then he spots the city in the distance. Burning. And his heart starts doing that thing when it feels like someone's trying to drag it out of his chest.

The flames are still visible where the city was bombed days before. He still doesn't know what happened, or why. Did the government plan this? To quell whatever disease was spreading through the nation and making people sick? Making people into...well, monsters?

His body goes cold as he watches the black smoke rise, the buildings crumbling, the sound of the glass windows still exploding as the heat gets to them.

He left his sister in that place.

He can still see her face. Round and freckly, smiling, those brown curls dancing round her head every time her head moved. She's still a little girl to him. Was.

That's how he thinks of her. Not that sickly, pale girl he saw dying in that hospital bed. The first time he'd seen her in years.

He abandoned her, just like he did years ago.

He deserves to be alone.

She died in that city. She had survived a lot of things in her short life. But not this – not whatever was infecting everyone and spreading like a plague, taking away everything that made you human.

He wouldn't be able to stand seeing Ali like that.

As he drags his feet through the dirt, blisters rubbing against his scuffed shoes, he hears water running. A stream. _Perfect_. He's gotten used to using his senses more these days. When things are hunting you, you pick up things you didn't think you'd ever need. Like a heightened sense of hearing, or smell. And taste too, or that could just be because everything tastes so much better when you're starving.

He kneels by the running water and drinks, hoping it will give him back the energy he's losing. Every day he grows weaker. He can't help but think things would be easier with Ali by his side, telling him to buck up and get a grip. To keep going no matter how shitty things get.

He savours the cool water sliding down his throat, the droplets soothing his skin as he splashes the moisture to his face. Small things like this mean so much more now. A simple drink of water...it was becoming the difference between life and death.

How long can he survive like this? He escaped the city with barely anything. He'd managed to steal a thing or two from the abandoned cars just outside the city but most people took what they could when they fled, before the bombs fell. Logan doesn't know where they went. He just ran and kept on running until he was far enough away that he could convince himself it wasn't happening, that it was just a terrible dream or something. But then nobody came to rescue him, and the hunger kicked in, and he heard Ali in his head telling him to quit being such a cry baby and to get out there and do something. So he tried.

But, realistically, he doesn't know how much longer he can live like this.

He feels like gravity is pushing him down, making his arms and legs heavy, like the earth is pulling him closer to it, further into this mad spiral of hopelessness. His stomach mumbles for sustenance.

 _So hungry._

What can he do? He can't hunt, he can't go back to the city.

 _I'm screwed,_ he thinks.

He'll die soon. But he'd rather die of starvation than get infected. Than turn into a monster. What a shitty way to die...what a terrible way to die...

 _I'm sorry, Ali._

There's a twisting feeling in his gut and he's not hungry anymore.

Instead, he scrambles across the rocks and spits yellow bile onto the ground, his stomach empty and yet still contracting, squeezing out every last drop. He shakes all over.

He wipes his mouth and blinks moisture from his pale blue eyes. The sun is setting, an orange hue spread across the skies. It gives him a headache.

He takes off his shoes, removes his jacket and uses it as a pillow. And he tries to sleep.

He wishes he could just keep dreaming. Dream of his sister and what things would have been like if they'd been together these past few years.

He does dream of her. He's young and full of rage. The cab's waiting for him outside. Ali's still in bed. He thinks she's asleep. He shoves his bag in the back and goes to grab the door handle when it hits him. _Is this the right thing to do?_

It's all mixing around his brain like a blender, the emotions of that day. The screams of his father, the absence of his mother, the disappointment of his sister. He felt trapped here, like he'd been kept in a little box and shaken about like a magic 8 ball. _What future do I have here?_

And he knows he's dreaming, and he has the urge to scream at himself. _Stay_. But, even now, having lost everyone close to him, having lost those five years with them, he still can't bring himself to.

So he opens the door and he gets in the cab and Ali's sitting there in the driver's seat, and she turns around and grabs his arm and tells him:

"Don't give up."

That's when he starts hearing voices.

"He alive?"

Ali starts to fade away, along with the cab, and the house, and that entire reality. He returns to darkness.

"He's breathin'," says another voice. Male.

"He been bit?" a different man asks.

"Don't see any bites."

He opens his eyes and the sudden brightness hurts. It's like thousands of tiny fireflies are buzzing around his pupils. But then the people come in to focus. A woman, two men, standing over him. One of the guys has a gun and Logan sits up suddenly, his head pounding from the sudden movement. The other guy has a crossbow. _Shit_. No one had ever pointed a weapon at him before. Were they going to shoot him? Rob him? Both?

The thought suddenly seemed ludicrous. Rob him? Rob him for what? He had nothing of use to them. Either way, he was going to die. Whether it was now, or a week from now. Something would get him.

The woman squints at him. She's a blonde, her hair pulled back tightly in to a ponytail, but Logan doesn't notice much else. He's too distracted by the gun and crossbow and the fact that he is in their current line of fire.

"You look like crap," the woman comments. "What happened to you?"

Logan blinks. If they were going to kill him, why didn't they just do it? For the first time he looks at the woman properly. A pretty, thirty-something with striking blue eyes like his. He can't think of a better answer other than: "Same thing that happened to you, I guess."

The man, the one with the gun, holds out his hand to him. Logan hesitates, then takes it. He's pulled to his feet.

"How long you been out here?"

"Since the bombs," he answers.

"We have a group," the woman tells him. "We have food."

The tension gradually passes. The woman seems guarded, but kind. Like she genuinely wants to help him. He didn't realise that sort of kindness still existed, that a complete stranger would be willing to offer him help in a world where there seemed to be nothing left. He'd been raised to have faith and to believe in goodness and kindness, but he had lost that kind of hope in people long ago. Perhaps he had been wrong.

"What's your name?" the man with the gun asks him.

He tells him "Logan."

"Can we trust you, Logan?"

"Looks pretty harmless to me," scoffs crossbow guy.

" _Can we trust you, Logan_?" the first guy repeats.

"Yes," Logan answers, not sure what else to say.

"If that turns out to be a lie, I'll shoot you in the foot."

"Quit being over-dramatic, Shane," says the woman, rolling her eyes. "He could be useful. We all play our part."

"Yeah, useful as bait," mumbles Crossbow.

Logan gets it. He's not a very threatening-looking guy. Small, skinny, with those baby blues, freckles and a bone structure that probably makes him look too pretty to be tough. But he's a willing learner. "I just need some place to go. I won't be any trouble. I'm willing to earn my place."

Shane steps closer and stares at him for a moment. "Fine. You know how to shoot?"

"No..."

"Know how to hunt?"

"No."

Shane raises an eyebrow. "You at least run fast?"

Logan stares at him blankly. Then Shane cracks a smile.

"Well, guess you can always wash clothes with the women."

Behind him, the blonde breathes an irritated sigh. Then she looks at Logan.

"If you're coming, let's go."

They start to turn but Logan hesitates. He looks towards his tatty boots, neatly arranged side by side. "My shoes."

"You take off your shoes to sleep? Outside?" she asks incredulously.

Logan shrugs. He never realised but it had become a ritual. A sort of comfort. She laughs at him.

Then he finds out her name.

Andrea.


	2. Chapter 2 - Alexis

**Alexis**

Dear Diary,

I hate my brother, I hate him, I'm glad he's gone.

Always fighting with dad, always arguing.

Dad says he's lazy and ungrateful. He says that Logan was acting like a spoilt brat and that he showed no respect, and what would Mom think of him?

They had that argument the other night. The next morning Logan packed his stuff and left. No note or anything.

I saw him. Early that morning. The sound of a car engine woke me up and I was so sleepy I didn't want to get up, but something told me I should so I crawled out of bed, my eyes half-closed and I peered out the blinds and there he was getting in a cab.

He didn't even say goodbye.

So there. I'm glad he's gone. I am. I don't even feel bad. But I think Dad does. He said he should have never brought up Mom.

I dunno. I never met her. Not really. She left us when I was little. Dad never said why. But I know it has something to do with me.

I've never said this out loud before let alone write about it. But I just feel like telling you, like maybe it will help somehow. Or something like that. It's just...sometimes it's hard to understand how I really feel about it all.

The reason I know Mom left because of me is, well, for starters I was an accident. No one ever told me that for sure. I just know that I was. Logan was around nine when I was born. I'm sure my parents hadn't intended on me showing up! But there I was.

I don't remember any of it but I'd like to think it was happy for a while. Then I started getting sick a lot. I have this thing where my immune system struggles to fight off bacteria. At least that's what the doctor tells me. I don't really understand it myself. Sometimes I'm fine, other times I catch a cold and I'm in bed for days.

Dad told me I was in and out the hospital a lot when I was really small. He said he'd taken me to the ER more times than he had taken me to the park. He said I caused everyone a lot of grief, but I think he was teasing me with that last part cos he winked and smiled and then said I was worth it. But I guess to my mom I wasn't, cos somewhere in that time my mom left and never came back.

Oh well.

Apparently I almost died once. I was six or seven, I think. I don't remember much except Logan visiting me in the hospital. He taught me how to play cards and we'd do that for hours. He used to sneak out of school early and watch cartoons with me while I got better. He was a great big brother then...

But that was so many years ago now. Things have changed. I don't need him. I don't. I'm glad he's gone. I won't miss him one bit. And I don't miss my mom either. But I guess my brother does and that's why he stormed out after that argument with Dad and now I guess he will never come back either.

Oh well.

That's all I'll say about it for now. Dad said he will help me with my homework. To be honest I think he could use the company.

I won't mention Logan.

Speak soon,

\- Alexis


	3. Chapter 3 - Logan

**Logan**

Logan drags himself back to camp, lugging the bag of firewood he has spent all afternoon cutting up. His gait is slow, tired, and his muscles feel like loosened screws that could pop out any second and cause his limbs to drop to the floor. It's a hot day out in the woods, the air warm and causing beads of sweat to form on Logan's filthy skin. He longs for a nice long dip in the lake, to feel the cool wetness kiss his burning, muddy flesh. But first he has to show the group his hard day's work. He has to show them he's doing his part. He'd hate it if they regretted taking him in, if Andrea regretted it.

He finds Shane by the tents and drops the bag by his feet, wiping the moisture from his lips and cracking a smirk as if he were proud of his work. Shane nods.

"Alright. Put it with the rest."

He gesticulates towards a growing pile of logs all of which Logan had collected at some point during his few week's initiation into the group. Logan's expression falls. He's grateful that they found him when they did, but he's getting tired of being the pack mule, carrying stuff around, doing the less important jobs like washing clothes. He understands those jobs need doing, but he's starting to feel like the inferior new guy who people just dumped stuff on. He'd had enough of that feeling growing up. He doesn't want to relive it.

The frustration bubbles up like a pot of boiling water, spilling over. It's too late to stop it. "I want to go on a run to the city," he says suddenly, taking even himself by surprise.

Shane shakes his head, unmoved by Logan's plea. "You can help with plenty round here. We got women and children to protect." He points towards the tents. Lori's sitting with her young son, Carol's handing her daughter a flask while her husband looks on grumpily. Logan hasn't talked to them much yet. Lori had made an effort to strike up conversation, Carol had offered him food now and again, and Ed – well – nobody seemed to bother with him. He knows there's a guy called Morales who has a family here too.

Having kids to take care of with all this going on. He couldn't imagine.

He's lucky he has nobody to worry about now, in a way.

He isn't really sure what the set up is between Shane and Lori but as he understands it, Lori's husband had passed away and now Shane's looking after her and her son. At least she has some help. And Carol has her husband. Logan has yet to find his place, but he's useless stuck here all the time when people are risking their lives for him.

"I know the city. I used to live there. Let me help."

Shane's heavy brows draw together briefly, pushing out his lower lip with his tongue. "Glenn and Andrea are planning a run. Talk to them."

Logan follows Shane's advice. Glenn is similar to Logan's age and build, but they really hadn't talked much since Logan's arrival. He's perhaps a bit of a loner, and when it came to supply runs he likes things done a certain way. A scavenger-virgin like Logan would only slow him down.

If twenty-year-old Logan had been standing there, he may have fought with Glenn, argued with him. But Logan had done a lot of growing up since then. He takes a deep breath.

"You must have been new at this once. Just show me the ropes. I won't get out of line. I swear."

Glenn takes his cap off to push back his moist black hair, his skin dotting with sweat. "Alright. But I'm not much of a teacher, so it's fine with me if Andrea's the one who keeps an eye on you."

"Me?" Andrea looks offended standing behind him. "Why me?"

"You're the one that brought him here." He turns back to Logan. "We leave in twenty minutes. Get your stuff and get ready."

When he leaves, Andrea lets out an annoyed sigh. "If you end up getting us all killed, I'm kicking your ass," she mutters, pointing an accusing finger at him.

"Hey, sounds like a fair deal to me. Who else is coming?"

"Jacqui. T-Dog. Morales, I think. Merle – joy of joys."

Logan chuckles a little. Nobody much likes the Dixons. Logan still remembers Daryl calling him "bait" the first day they met. But Merle is worse. On a few occasions the man had rudely interjected during conversations to express his many perverted, racist or sexist opinions. Logan doesn't know why they keep him around, or why they still let him on runs occasionally, but he guesses it has something to do with his brother being a good hunter. Daryl would bring back fresh meat now and then that he had shot with his crossbow. He's out there right now. Hunting for their dinner. That's why they tolerate the Dixons.

Not that Logan has much say anyway. He's still the new boy. He's still getting to know everyone.

"Look..." he begins, watching as her blue eyes focus on him, her loose strands of hair waving in the wind. "You let me in to this group. It's because of you I'm here. I don't want to get in the way. All I wanna do is help."

"Sweet sentiment, but in this world? You do something wrong, it gets people killed. Excuse me."

He watches Andrea head over to her sister. Amy is a lot younger than Andrea, much like Logan and his sister. She's cuter too, and a lot less snappy. He wonders what had happened to make Amy so sweet and Andrea so sour.

Still, he's on the supply run and that's a start. Maybe he would gain her respect this way.


	4. Chapter 4 - Alexis

**Alexis**

Dear Diary,

I haven't really written much lately but I thought I might as well tell you about Christmas.

This was our first Christmas without Logan so I wasn't expecting it to be awesome or anything. Our typical Christmas isn't anything that special. We never go anywhere. We just stay at home which is fine with me because I think it would be too embarrassing to go anywhere.

The reason why it would be embarrassing is because every Christmas my dad would give us these terrible Christmas jumpers to wear and he would be wearing the baggiest, most ugliest Christmas themed sweater he could find that year and insist we all put ours on and go and sing hymns together and it would always spark an argument because we hated it. Logan would never wear his and that would upset Dad and then I would end up wearing mine out of pity and then he would make me get up and sing carols with him while the turkey started to turn to charcoal in the oven, and then when we pointed out our lunch was being cremated Dad would yell at us that we were not helping and I would end up cleaning the stove because the hot water from the vegetables had spilled over and burned and Logan would be setting the table with a miserable face on him and then Dad would groan at us for getting in the way so Logan and I would sit in front of the tree and exchange gifts.

I would get Logan books because he liked reading. I would try to get him books I thought he'd like and sometimes he read them and other times they'd sit at the back of his bookcase for months and months, but whatever it was he would act like he loved it because I gave it to him, so that made me feel a little better if I thought he might not like it. I don't get a lot of allowance so they tended to be old books I found on sale or decent second hand copies. I quite enjoyed scanning through the shelves, reading the blurbs and wondering if my brother would like it.

Obviously I didn't bother this time.

Logan used to spend a little more on me. He had a few jobs here and there before he split but I guess he finally made enough to run off and not need us anymore. Last Christmas he got me this snow globe. Oh, it was so pretty. I had been looking forward to a snowy Christmas all year, and then I got in a mood when the weatherman said there was going to be no snow at all that year, so Christmas morning after all the fighting about Christmas lunch and getting kicked out the kitchen and all that, Logan and I sat in front of the tree and I opened this little box and pulled out this beautiful snow globe. It was the perfect scene inside. A little wooden house with a warm glow coming from the windows, a decorated Christmas tree out front and a little deer perched on a hill covered in white. And when you shook it: the perfect snowy Christmas.

I think it's in the bottom of my closet now.

So then we'd all sit for lunch and it would look a mess but tasty all the same and while our tummies were rumbling, Dad would make us say grace. And then he might say something in his prayer that Logan would take offence to, maybe hinting at some of Logan's misgivings over the year. Maybe his poor grades, maybe a couple of fights, maybe a lost job. But by the way Logan reacted you would have thought Dad said something more like "I am very ungrateful for my failure son and all his senseless fuck-ups." Forgive me for the bad language, Diary. I have been a bit bad lately with swearing. Dad has already grounded me for it once. I blame some of the kids at school.

But anyway, after the bickering and half-eaten meals, Logan would storm up to his room or go out with friends or ignore us for the rest of the day, occasionally being roped in for chores. And then me and Dad would watch TV until bed time. I guess that part didn't change this year. At one point I thought about calling Logan down to help clean up after dinner, before remembering he wasn't here.

He hadn't sent any presents this year. Not even a card. It's like he just vanished.

So Dad and I had a fine time without him.

In fact, it was pretty nice. There was no shouting, no fighting. Dad got me an mp3 player. I got him a CD with some hymns on it and it made him chuckle, and he put it on and I even sang along with him. It was actually fun. Then I helped out with the turkey and the stuffing and we managed not to burn anything. Then again, we didn't burn any vegetables because this year we forgot to buy them! So we sat and said grace and we ate, and it was quiet.

Dad said it had been one of the most peaceful Christmases ever, and then he added in a quiet voice as we watched TV: "I hope he's okay."

I hope Logan is okay too. But maybe we are all better off without each other. Bit of an ironic thing to say at Christmas. But it's true.

Dad is calling to see if I'm ready for church yet. I better get dressed.

\- Alexis


	5. Chapter 5 - Logan

**Logan**

Logan hadn't seen the city since he had escaped with his life. The idea of being back here made his throat dry and his palms clammy. This had been his home. It meant so many things before all of this happened, stirred up so many memories – most of them bad. Now it will forever be the place where his sister died.

Maybe this is a mistake.

Too late to turn back now. And having Andrea by his side makes him feel a little better even if she did seem to resent him being there. With all the decrepit buildings, wandering undead (or geeks as Glenn called them) and the fact that Logan hadn't really been around for several years seemed to help make the place unrecognisable.

But Ali is never far from his mind.

Was it normal to, in some way, expect her to come out the shadows, alive and well, a relieved smile on her face as she opened up her arms to embrace him?

Ludicrous. Even if by some miracle his sister is alive, she would never be glad to see him.

They get into the store fine. Quiet. So far the street to the multilevel department store narrowly avoided the destruction of the other buildings. Parts of the city had been blocked off during attempts to contain the virus during all the panic. Apparently the store had been shut for weeks previously and security had been tight right up until evacuation. That made it a perfect target. And Glenn knew his way around enough to divert any geeks that they did happen to come across.

Inside, they split up to gather supplies. Weapons, food, toiletries. This is paradise after wandering outside in the woods for weeks. Even the smell – kind of a stuffy, plastic smell – comforts Logan's senses.

On the higher level, there's a display for gifts, food hampers and candy. Unfortunately, the smell is less tantalising. Spoiled and rotten food products hit Logan's nostrils in a sudden wave that makes him want to throw up.

"Smells like something died in here," says Andrea. Logan agrees. They take off their rucksacks and start loading up supplies.

It occurs to Logan that he doesn't know how to loot. He finds himself absent-mindedly shoving in candy bars because they look tasty, not because they need them.

"Sweet tooth?" Andrea queries over his shoulder.

"I used to be a bit of a stress eater," he admits. "And chocolate? My biggest weakness."

Andrea looks at him incredulously. "With your skinny ass? Hard to believe."

He laughs, a confused smile on his lips. "Thanks?" He grabs a Hershey's bar from his bag and stares longingly at it. "Gotta admit though, its been way too long since I've had chocolate."

"Have a bite, I dont care," says Andrea, moving along to explore some of the other aisles.

Logan hesitates. Then he rips the packet open and breaks off a square with his teeth. As soon as the flavour hits his tongue, he releases a contented sigh.

"Should I leave you alone with that thing?" Andrea teases, glancing back at him with a judgemental gaze.

"Here," Logan holds out the bar to her. Andrea hesitates. "It's really good."

She rolls her eyes and breaks off a piece before placing it in her mouth. Logan watches her chew.

"Alright. It's pretty good," she admits. "Come on. We better hurry up."

Logan can't wipe the smile off his face as he continues collecting packets and tossing them in his pack.

T-Dog and Morales had been looking for weapons and they had collected an assortment of baseball bats, shin pads and helmets ready to use on their exit if they needed it. Jacqui and Glenn had been stocking up on toiletries and medicine. They don't know where Merle Dixon has wandered off to.

"Where is that asshole?" Glenn murmurs, checking his watch.

"Beats me," shrugs T-Dog.

"I thought I saw him heading upstairs," says Jacqui.

Andrea shakes her head angrily. "Now what's he doing?"

Glenn sighs. "I'll get him." He takes one step forwards when the group hears several bangs coming from outside.

"What's that? Gunshots?" questions Logan. This usually wouldn't be the first conclusion he jumps to, but nowadays it seems one of the most likely options.

"Merle?" Glenn says anxiously.

"That ain't coming from upstairs" replies T-Dog.

"It's coming from the street," adds Logan, walking over to the window. He can see a long way from up here. He notices the streets below, barriers blocking off some, not that they help stop the dead geeks from getting through completely. There's a few limping about outside the store, then he sees what all the commotion is.

"You may wanna see this."

Seconds later the group joins him by the window. It's hard to see exactly, but there seems to be a guy down there further up the street, completely surrounded by geeks. He's firing off his weapon like a madman.

"Oh, my God," breathes Jacqui.

"He's dead!" Morales exclaims, clutching his baseball bat.

They watch intently as the guy climbs into an abandoned tank, the infected circling him and blocking all exists.

T-Dog shakes his head vigorously. "No way he's getting out of that."

Glenn takes a deep breath and removes his hand from the window. "Yeah he is. 'Cause we're gonna help him."

"Are you crazy? You can't go out there!" says Andrea.

"I'm not." Glenn pulls out his radio. "Maybe I can talk to him through the radio in the tank."

"You sure about this?" asks Logan. He's never seen a situation like the one outside. He wanted to help the guy too, but how was instructing him through a radio going to help? The guy was surrounded.

"You wanted to learn?" replies Glenn. "Watch and learn." He hands T-Dog the other radio and tells him and Morales to follow him. Then he tells the other three to meet them by the entrance.

"You're stupid risking your life for that guy!" Andrea yells after them, clearly frustrated.

"Maybe Glenn's right. We can't just leave him out there," says Jacqui.

"Why not?" Andrea snaps. "He got himself in to that mess. What was he thinking?"

"If we can help, we should help." Logan points out. "You took a chance on me, why not him?"

Andrea frowns at him. "That was different."

The three of them jump as they hear more gunshots, each one getting closer and closer. Andrea looks out of the window, seeing the stranger outside, sprinting towards the store, firing at every geek that got too close.

"Look at that...it's a miracle," whispers Jacqui.

"He actually made it out," agrees Logan with disbelief.

"He's gonna lead them right to us," mutters Andrea. She pulls out the gun that Shane gave her before they left. Logan's suddenly aware of the fact that he's completely unarmed. Not that he had wanted a weapon, but now they may be in danger it would have been nice if T-Dog or Morales had given him one of those baseball bats.

"C'mon," she says. "They might need our help."

They head down and wait in a corner of the store by the doors of the main entrance, next to the jewellery department. Amazingly, most of the jewellery had been left untouched, still glimmering proudly on show in glass cases. Logan glimpses each display. Trinkets like rings and bracelets and necklaces twinkle at him. He doesn't know much about jewellery. Ali never wore a lot of it, and he wasn't with any girl long enough to get to the jewellery buying stage. But he has to admit, it all looks pretty nice even in the dim light.

The gunshots carry on outside. Then Logan thinks he can hear some of the infected groaning in the street. They're getting closer.

"Shit. He's brought them right to our doorstep!" Andrea holds up her gun.

"Now what?" Jacqui rubs her hands together anxiously.

Andrea looks around quickly. "Block the doors. Look for weapons. If they all come flooding in, I can't shoot them all. Logan – look through those drawers. There's gotta be something sharp in there."

Logan opens up a drawer in the gift wrap station. Immediately he picks up a pair of large scissors while Jacqui and Andrea start shifting stuff in front of the doors. Most of the heavy stuff is stuck down, so there's not a lot of options.

Shadowy figures start knocking and banging on the opaque glass as the creatures surround the doors, groaning and pushing themselves against the glass. Dread rushes through Logan's body. It's like all the air has gone from the room.

He whips around him, looking for something to help, when something hard and heavy knocks into him, forcing him on his back.

All his senses scream at him. It's one of the geeks, the flesh on its face sagging and worn as it gnashes at him with rotted teeth. It smells vile. Logan pushes the thing back as it leans its face towards him, dead glassy eyes alight with the prospect of a fresh meal. The scissors are still in his hands, yet it all happens so fast he doesn't think to use them, or even how to use them.

He just yells for help.

Andrea kicks the thing off him. Then she grabs his scissors and stabs it in the skull with violent force, causing blood to spurt out of the creature's head. Logan cringes at the sight and noise as the blade collides with the brain. After, she turns to Logan, breathing fast. "What are you doing?" she chastises him. "Why didn't you stab it?"

"I...I..." Logan doesn't know what to say, what to do. Andrea leaves him on the floor.

Then a guy comes running in, panting, exhausted. He stares at all of them, eyes wide, face covered in sweat. He's dressed in a sheriff's uniform.

That's how they meet Rick Grimes.


	6. Chapter 6 - Alexis

**Alexis**

Dear Diary,

Logan has been gone a long time now. Years, actually. We haven't heard a lot from him. He sends cards every now and then, an email occasionally. There's no address to write back to and the emails I do send he doesn't respond to, so most of the time I don't bother.

But last week something happened. I got scared. I tried calling Logan's cell even though I knew he had a new number. I emailed him. No response. Until yesterday morning, I got a three word email.

" _Are you okay?"_

\- Logan

No. I'm not okay. Nothing's okay. I'm still having bad dreams about it, and I wake up in the middle of the night having to make sure dad's alright.

Last week, Dad had a heart attack. He's not in great shape, and his doctor has always warned him this could happen. We tried going on diets together but they never lasted. Always too tempted by desserts and take-out foods on our lazy days in. I try to help out around the house sometimes, to make sure he can relax more. But he still gets so stressed out. Maybe he's tired of people leaving him. Leaving us. First Mom, then Logan. Everyone always leaves.

And then, last week, Dad just collapsed. I came home from school and there he was lying on the floor, motionless. It looked like he was boxing up some of Logan's stuff and putting it in the attic when he just fell off the ladder. I called the ambulance in tears – it took a good few minutes for the lady on the other end to calm me down and instruct me what to do. Then the paramedics got here and took me and Dad to the hospital.

I stayed with Dad while he recovered. I slept by his bed. I got him some books and his mini radio to listen to. I listened to the doctors as they explained what was wrong and what we needed to do next. Then we both got in a cab home and I've been looking after him ever since. I get him his medication, I make him meals according to his new diet.

He says he's fine but he's not. Neither of us are.

I stared at Logan's email for several minutes when I got it, thinking about what an utterly stupid question it was and why didn't he just come home himself?

I ignored him. I'm done with him.

One day I hope he reads this and feels as horrible as I do now. And then maybe he can help me understand.

How could he just walk away?

\- Alexis.


	7. Chapter 7 - Logan

**Logan**

Rick, of course, saved their lives. After Andrea nearly killed him. _Then_ after T-Dog and Merle nearly killed _each other_. _And_ after a horde of the dead broke into the store, almost killing all of _them_.

But Rick...he got them out.

The guy had come out of nowhere. First Glenn saves his ass, and he saves all of theirs in return. Logan thought it was pretty clever. Using the geeks' guts to disguise their living scent. Then breaking into a truck to pick the rest of them up. Rick and Glenn did that.

And Logan did nothing. All he did was nearly get killed. And he had a few candy bars to show for his efforts.

At least he hadn't ended up like Merle. It wasn't T-Dog's fault. He didn't mean to drop the keys. Part of him wondered at first if the man had done it on purpose, judging by the abuse Merle had dropped on him moments before Rick ended up handcuffing the racist prick to a pipe on the roof. But he could see T-Dog wasn't that kind of guy. It was just an accident.

And, well, none of them were prepared to risk their lives going back for Merle Dixon. At least not that night.

Things changed today when Daryl got back and kicked off about his brother. Rick and T-Dog were obviously feeling remorseful because both of them along with Glenn and Daryl have gone back to the city to rescue Merle and recover a bag of guns Rick had apparently left behind.

This was to the dismay of Rick's family.

It was a surprise to all of them. When Rick said he was looking for his wife and son, no one could have thought he meant Carl and Lori. Logan stood dumbfounded as he watched the reunion. It was miraculous, no other word for it.

But all he could feel in that moment was jealousy. All these reunions between family members, between loved ones, and Logan still had no one. He would give anything to have his baby sister back. Could it be possible that she got out, an unlikely miracle just like Rick?

But it was silly to hold onto that hope. Ali was sick. She had whatever those geeks had. She's dead.

He hopes to God she's not one of those mindless creatures wandering around with her skin sagging from her bones, just like the one he saw in the store. The thought makes him shiver.

After the drama of the past couple of days, Logan thinks he needs a break. He has already hung out one lot of clothes to dry in the sun, now the girls are washing the next lot by the quarry, so he sneaks off while everything is calm and quiet.

He finds a small lake by a waterfall. It's gorgeous. Clear, blue water. Cool to the touch. The sun shining on the ripples and causing the water to glimmer serenely. Suddenly it feels like the only thing in the world he wants to do is take off all his clothes and get in.

So he does.

He tosses his jeans and shirt onto a rock and slips in. The cool water envelops him. Welcomes him. It's perfect. The water soothes his warm skin, droplets from the waterfall lightly splash his bare chest.

He closes his eyes and lets the serenity take him over. He listens to the sounds of the rushing water, the birds singing, the trees blowing in the wind. Things he never appreciated before. The light dancing behind his eyes, the sun glowing on him. No one around to disturb him.

"Oh."

His eyes snap open and Andrea blurs in to focus, standing by the trees. She smiles awkwardly.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," he says gently, despite feeling the heat reach his cheeks. He's suddenly aware of how naked he is beneath the water, saved by just a few ripples on the surface that hide his lower body from view. He isn't sure if his intruder being Andrea makes it any worse or better. He only stands there, staring at her as much as she is staring at him.

"Sorry, uh," she says again, embarrassed.

"Did you find the boat?" Another figure emerges from the woods. Adorable Amy. She stops abruptly, seeing Logan. "Oh, sorry."

"Really. It's fine," says Logan, a crooked smile on his lips, though he has trouble looking them in the eyes now.

"We're going fishing," Amy blurts. "Wanna come?"

Andrea gives her sister a playful smack. "He doesn't want to come fishing."

"Sure," Logan says before Andrea can finish her sentence. She looks at him, bemused. "I'd like that."

An awkward pause. Andrea seems mildly annoyed. Logan's starting to feel cold, goose pimples hardening on his flesh.

"Great. Meet us in ten?" Amy beams, dragging her sister off before whispering "he's cute". He doesn't hear Andrea's response.

He joins them later, fully dressed, and they teach him how to fish. He's never done it before, apparently the girls' father had taught them both separately during their childhoods, but both seem to disagree on the method he used. Did they catch the fish or throw them back? Did he use nail knots or fishermen's knots? Dry lures or wet lures? This is a different language for Logan and as the girl's squabble he fidgets awkwardly, thinking how his dad never taught him a damn thing.

"I guess he changed things up," says Andrea about their father's teaching methods.

"But that'd be like changing his religion or something," argues her sister.

"People change. It's not his fault we were born 12 years apart."

Logan smiles slightly, finding something in common with the sisters at last. "Nine years for me and my sister," he says.

"You have a sister?" Amy asks, intrigued. "Is she...?"

"Gone," he answers, smile fading. They look at him. Empathising. "But I get it...the way my father raised me was completely different to how he raised my sister. She worshipped him. Me, not so much. We didn't see eye to eye. But with Ali...I don't know. Maybe people do change. He changed with her."

"Not our dad," Amy says, shaking her head. "The minute Andrea went off to college it was my ass in that boat and he taught me dry lures from day one, so it wasn't behaviour developed over time."

A pause. Logan looks out at the water as Andrea stares off in to the distance.

"You think he did it for us?" she asks softly.

"Because he knew we were so different," Amy realises tearfully. "He knew that you needed to catch the fish and I needed to throw them back."

Logan studies Andrea sitting opposite him in her straw hat. The first time she had actually looked kind of sweet to him, perhaps brought on by the sudden vulnerability in her eyes. Amy looks as though she's choking up too.

Logan suddenly feels horribly intrusive. Although considering the scene the sisters walked in on earlier, perhaps he shouldn't feel so bad.

He clears his throat. "Sounds like he really loved you guys."

Amy nods, sniffing. "I'm sure your dad loved you too."

Logan forces a smile, but it's not convincing.

"And your sister," she adds.

As soon as Amy says it he senses something bulking in his throat. If she knew their history, she may have doubted it too. He will always love Ali, but he isn't sure if he deserves her love back. The last time they spoke, even though she was trying to be brave, to make amends, she was still damaged by him. Betrayed. And the sting was still too raw. It was too late for her forgiveness. Ali was always a stubborn kid. Determined. Passionate.

"You remind me of her," he says to Andrea.

Andrea composes herself, wipes away her tears to give Logan a surprised, incredulous look. "Me?"

He nods gently. "Yeah. In a good way of course. It's...nice."

And it's true, Andrea's similarities to his sister comforts him in an odd way. Especially when she was yelling at him. Almost like his sister was living on in some way

"Alright, enough of this now," Andrea says. "Dad's rule – no crying in the boat...it scares the fish."

"That includes you," Amy prods Logan and giggles sweetly.

Logan holds up his hands. "No promises."

Amy laughs. He catches Andrea smiling too which makes him feel a little better about being there.

"So you want to be taught the right way?" Andrea asks him.

"Teach me your way," he says.

"So...the right way," she affirms. Logan chuckles.

The girls show him how to tie the knots. It's fun at first, Logan enjoys their company, but the conversation turns more on to him as Amy asks him question after question, trying to find out more about him.

He doesn't give full answers. "Yeah", " no", and "not really" are the most he manages. It occurs to him that Amy seems to be flirting with him, her blue eyes gleaming at him, giggling and smiling. He isn't really used to the attention and the blood rushes to his cheeks once more.

He glances at Andrea who looks about ready to kill herself. He feels even worse for intruding now – it was obvious from the start Andrea didn't want him there. Now whether intentional or not he had hijacked her time with her sister and made it all about him.

He clears his throat, deciding to change the subject. "I wonder if they found Merle."

"I hope not," Andrea mutters. "That asshole can go to hell for all I care."

"Andrea," her sister says, shocked.

Andrea shrugs. "I'm just saying, those guys are idiots for risking their lives for that bonehead."

Logan bites his tongue. He likes to think he'd help anyone who needed it. But guys like Merle? Maybe it was unchristian to think so, but some people just didn't deserve saving. Sometimes he thinks although Andrea can be full of fire and anger, she can have a point. She's smart. That's why she's survived this long. Because she's smart and rational. Whereas Logan thinks with his heart rather than his head. That's why Andrea's going to make it.

"I wouldn't have gone if they'd begged me. How do we know they can even get to Merle? That place was swarming. Besides no one wants him here, except Daryl. And God knows why. We have enough violent creeps in this camp already."

"Like who?" Logan asks.

The girls look at him like he's stupid.

"Ed for starters," replies Andrea as if it were obvious.

"Ed? Carol's husband?"

"I know you haven't been here long but you must have seen the bruises on her," says Andrea.

"He beats her," Amy explains.

"He was slapping her silly before we came out here," adds Andrea. "We had to pull them apart. Then Shane beat the crap out of him."

"Bet you're glad you missed all of that, huh?" Amy says to Logan, sighing.

"No...I..." He's still absorbing the information, accepting that the quiet, grumbly man he saw sitting with Carol every evening, the devoted father and husband, was actually the kind of creature they would condemn. Thinking about Carol suffering at the hands of her cold husband makes him furious. "I would have...I would have done something!"

"Done what?" Andrea questions."You didn't even notice that walking carcass that nearly took a bite out of you yesterday! You just laid there. What would you have done?"

She has him there. He had let fear and emotions take him over then. And he doesn't exactly have the most threatening persona. Ed wouldn't have taken him seriously even if he had stood up to him. The man probably would have been able to knock him in to next week.

"Shane handled it," Amy says, frowning, apparently unhappy with the way Shane had resolved things.

"Scared the shit out of Ed. And Carol," adds Andrea.

"Violence," Logan mutters. It seems like the only option if you wanted to survive now.

The girls say nothing. Then their fishing poles start to tug.

Logan has caught his first fish.


	8. Chapter 8 - Alexis

**Alexis**

It's my birthday today. Got my card from Logan.

I tore it up and threw it in the trash.

Dad shook his head when he saw what I'd done, but he didn't say anything. He wasn't surprised.

I think he hates seeing us like this. I see pictures of him and Mom together, Logan as a little kid standing next to Mom's pregnant bulge with me inside. I see dad, youthful and smiling, not a grey hair in sight, and I think he never wanted things to be like this. He just wanted a happy family. Then I look at the woman I never knew. Pretty. Pale. Long brunette hair that ended past her elbows. Standing in my dad's arms in a long blue dress that stretched over her big, round belly. Hard to believe it was me in there, in the womb of a stranger. I know what she didn't want and she didn't want me.

Then I look over at Logan who must only be about nine or ten, watching me with those bright blue eyes, a tiny smile as our mother rests a hand on his dark mess of hair. I don't know what he wanted and I don't think I ever will.

I'm not sure how this picture makes me feel.

That's how I spent my birthday. Looking at pictures and thinking.

There's one of me and Logan on my birthday. I'm about five. I didn't have many friends so Logan and my dad threw me a surprise party just for us. I still remember the cake he got me. Thomas the Tank Engine. I think Logan and I ate the whole thing ourselves. Dad told me we played games and watched movies all day, dumb stuff a teenager would never be in to. Logan must have had better things to do at his age, yet he still spent the entire day hanging out with his kid sister, making sure she had a good birthday.

I stared at the picture for ages. Me sitting at the table with my cake in front of me. Logan behind me, leaning over me and pointing at the camera, trying to get me to smile at it. He's making me giggle about something.

I know how this photo makes me feel. It makes me feel sad.

At what point did we change? When did things become so broken between us? Sometimes I wish I could just switch of the present and travel back to whenever I wanted; relive any birthday party, any conversation, any moment I wanted. That would be my birthday wish.

As well as old photographs, I've also been going through some of Logan's old books recently. I've read three of them already. The Brontës seem pretty cool. I didn't know Logan had those books but maybe they were from his classes. I like them anyway. There's so many complicated relationships in them that it makes my head hurt a little bit, but it's kind of fitting I guess, considering the relationship I have with my brother. Maybe I will take another book and make that my present from Logan. I'd rather that than the stupid, meaningless words he puts in my birthday cards.

I should go soon. Dad is taking me to a diner for lunch. I'm so hungry. I skipped breakfast because I wasn't feeling well. I've been feeling funny lately. Hope I'm not getting sick.

\- Alexis


	9. Chapter 9 - Logan

**Logan**

Logan remembers a significant moment that afternoon on the lake with Andrea, one which he can't get out of his mind, even now. He had been dodging Amy's questions the entire time, particularly ones about his family, and eventually she had given up her flirtatious conversation and gone ahead with the fish while Logan and Andrea gathered the equipment.

"I think my sister has a crush on you." Andrea smirks just a little bit.

Logan hands her the fishing poles, chuckles and feels his cheeks redden. He isn't sure what to say. Amy's a sweet girl, pretty, friendly. A few years younger than Logan. But he doesn't reciprocate her feelings. Maybe he just isn't looking for anything like that now. _Especially_ now.

"What?" says Andrea, clocking his embarrassment. "You're not used to girls liking you?"

"Not really."

"So you had no one special before? No wife? Girlfriend?"

"There were a few girls, not many. Nothing serious," he admits.

Andrea wobbles in the boat as she steps out on to land, Logan steadying her. Then she looks back. "Me either," she says.

"Guess things are just easier on your own sometimes. Found that out the hard way."

He stands in the boat, feeling it rock gently as Andrea's features wrinkle slightly, curious.

"Before the outbreak I hadn't really seen my family for some time," he explains. He isn't sure why he's so keen to open up to Andrea when he was so reluctant with her sister. Maybe it was Andrea's lack of interest in him that made it easier for him to talk to her. "My sister and I didn't part on good terms...but I had to get away. I just preferred it...on my own."

Andrea stares at him, the sun soaking her hair, her skin, making her glow as she peers out at him from the shade of her straw hat – those blue eyes shining, reflecting the gleam of the water around them. She looks like she understands. And for a second he feels strange, like he's lifting out the boat and all gravity has failed and Andrea's watching as he floats away.

"You're not going to cry, are you?" she asks. "Because you know we have a rule about that."

He laughs.

It seems like only moments ago that Logan was looking at Andrea, feeling the warmth on his skin, closing his eyes only to open them, hours later, on a scene of chaos.

Nobody had seen them coming under the cover of darkness. And even though Logan knows it's impossible, it seems like the attack was planned.

One second Amy was fine, stepping out of the RV. The next a geek walks up to her and takes a bite right out of her arm.

Now all Logan can hear is Andrea's screaming and crying and several infected around the camp being bashed and stabbed and stomped to death. Amy's had a chunk taken out of her neck and there's blood everywhere and now Andrea is holding her and sobbing.

Shane's shooting through a cluster of other geeks. Too many to count, grabbing and biting at people. Morales smashes one of them with a baseball bat while Dale picks up a rifle and starts firing. One of the guys, Jim, kills the one that attacked Amy.

Andrea's kneeling over her, crying. Logan grabs one of the geeks heading for them and throws it to the ground. It seems so much like a man. The weight, the shape. But it's not. It's not a man. He remembers what happened in the store when he couldn't kill it. He hadn't killed that many. Only one. But now he stamps on its head and crushes it until its skull is dented and all this disgusting liquid comes spilling out. He doesn't stop until he's sure it's dead and Logan's foot is drenched in blood and brains.

Holding back that retching sensation, he picks up a rock. Geeks are still wandering the camp, being picked off one by one. His breathing hardens, pains shooting through his chest. He swings the rock at one of the creatures and watches as it falls to the ground, then brings the blow to its skull again and again. Then another one – he kicks it down and the rock plummets into its face harder and harder.

Everyone's screaming, heading for the RV. Then Logan spins round as he hears gunshots.

Rick, Daryl, Glenn and T-Dog are back, charging furiously towards the camp and taking out the rest of the geeks until they're all dead.

And Andrea's still weeping over her sister. Logan stands behind her, watching the light leaving Amy's eyes. She's gone, Logan thinks, breathing heavily, skin and clothes splattered with a putrid red colouring.

 _It's happening all over again_


	10. Chapter 10 - Alexis

**Alexis**

I haven't updated you yet on what's been going on since I last wrote. I'm writing this on a napkin because in the excitement, I didn't get a chance to grab my diary. So I guess technically this is a "Dear Napkin" entry, rather than a Diary one.

After my birthday I started feeling really sick. I could barely get out of bed. I had trouble breathing. The doctors think it's some type of infection, but they're still doing tests. I've been in the hospital for a few days, sleeping mostly. I'm just so tired. I haven't felt this bad for a while and I haven't had to go to hospital in years, so it must be bad, whatever it is. It used to really scare me, when I got sick. Sometimes dad and Logan weren't even allowed in to see me in case they made my condition worse. But dad was allowed to sit with me this time. So I hope that means I'll be okay.

I haven't seen Logan yet, if he even knows what's happened to me. I think dad has been trying to get a hold of him. I'm not sure I want to see him though. It's just been so many years since I saw him. He might just make me feel worse.

One time when I was in the hospital sick, Logan snuck me in a bag of candy and we pigged it all until I puked. The doctors yelled at him, dad yelled at him. Logan just yelled and ran off.

But no sign of him this time.

I think dad is doing better. He's been eating healthier, exercising and he's looking much better and brighter. Unless he's just putting on a brave face for me. He's been great these last few days. Hanging out with me while the doctors do their tests, helping me feel at ease. I'm so lucky he's here.

New napkin: These things are hard to write on, huh? I'm not sure I'll even bother putting these in my diary. My handwriting's a mess. I just wanted to write down what was happening. It might make me feel less anxious or something. It's getting a bit busier outside now. Doctors and nurses are running around past my room. More and more patients are coming in and they all look pretty out of it. Half-conscious, sweaty. It's making me feel worse, too. I hate seeing sick people, I really do.

I feel like I need to rest my eyes. They're starting to get blurry. I might do that, actually. I think I really need to have a nap. The problem is it's so hot in here even with the windows open.

God. Someone outside was bleeding. Gross. I wonder what's happening out there. It's so noisy. Lots of voices, lots of machines beeping, lots of people moving around. I bet I won't sleep now, even though my eyes feel so droopy.

I'm going to at least try to get some sleep. Night, Napkin.

\- Alexis


	11. Chapter 11 - Logan

**Logan**

Warm beds. Hot food. Warm showers.

 _Alcohol._

Logan never imagined anything like this when Rick suggested heading to the CDC. Not everyone was happy with the idea – Shane in particular. He had this crazy idea that they should drive all the way to Fort Benning which was over a hundred miles away. They were out of food, out of gas and out of options. They needed help and the CDC was the smartest move.

They buried Amy before setting off. A few others had died in the scuffle with the infected, including Carol's husband. Morales left with his family. Jim had got bitten and, after the infection had set in and he couldn't go any further, he decided to stay behind. They left him by a tree. He said he liked the breeze.

Logan tried to stay with Andrea as much as possible. She had shot Amy in the head herself – eventually. She wouldn't do it until Amy started breathing again, until she opened her lifeless eyes and Andrea could say goodbye. Logan watched her do it.

And then Amy was gone. For good. And Rick took them to the CDC where they met Doctor Jenner.

He was the only one there.

Logan doesn't know what happened but he's glad to be here. He wasn't expecting some miracle cure, but he was hoping to learn what happened at least.

What he wasn't expecting was the food and alcohol Jenner gave them. All Jenner demanded of them was a blood sample. That didn't take long. Then minutes later they were all gathered round a table, eating, drinking, laughing.

Well, not everyone.

Andrea sits quietly. Logan doesn't talk much either – he thinks it might be disrespectful to get drunk and silly in front of Andrea when she's going through so much. He hasn't forgotten about Ed either and how Carol must be feeling, if she even misses him after how he was treating her. She seems pretty preoccupied with her daughter though.

He ends up drinking some wine, Dale refilling his glass again and again. By the third, Logan's starting to relax a little more. Everyone's raising their drinks, smiling. Even Daryl chinks his beer bottle with Logan's glass.

Nobody seems to mind that Jenner hasn't given them any answers yet. Except Shane – but he still seems unsure on the whole thing. As if his Fort Benning idea would have been much better.

Logan doubts Fort Benning would have been any safer. The CDC was meant to contain diseases. If it could keep the nasty stuff in, then it could definitely keep them out.

Jenner shows them to their rooms. It reminds Logan of a hotel. Clean, modern, nicely decorated. He's given a pillow and blankets and he makes up a nice bed on the couch for him to collapse onto.

But not before he showers. He's sure everyone else had the same idea as soon as Jenner mentioned hot water. He tears off his clothes, climbs in and lets the warm water wash away the horrors of the previous night. This is better than swimming in a lake. It's practically heaven after what he'd been through. There is something comforting about feeling the steady flow of warm water cleanse his skin.

It gives him time to think about everything that's happened these past few weeks. If Andrea had never invited him back to her group, he may not have been standing here right now. In fact he definitely wouldn't have been standing safe and sound in an underground shelter having a nice hot shower while those creatures wandered around hungrily on the surface. If it wasn't for her, he probably would have been one of them. Dead. Undead. Whatever.

He owes her everything.

And now she's alone without her sister.

Logan steps out of the shower and grabs a towel to dry his soaked skin. He's so skinny now, he can see his ribs poking out even after the meal he'd just consumed.

He thinks some of the group are still out in the rec room drinking. Should he check on Andrea? He doesn't know a lot about her, but he gets the feeling that she wouldn't want to talk about Amy with him. They barely know each other after all. They're not friends, not anything.

But he does understand. He knows what it's like.

And Andrea could use a friend.

He gets dressed. Jenner provided them with clean clothes, and they feel soft and fresh against his skin. Better than the dried sweat and blood that stained his old clothes.

Rick passes him in the corridor, swigging a bottle. He looks like he'll be hungover in the morning. Logan says, "Hey, Rick..."

Rick stares at him as if he has two heads. Logan wouldn't be surprised if that's what he saw right now. They had been non-stop drinking since they got here.

"I just wanted to say...this was a good idea. Thank you."

Rick takes another swig from his bottle and claps him on the shoulder. Before he leaves, Logan asks him if he's seen Andrea.

"Back there I think," Rick calls back, pointing down the corridor, and then he's gone.

Logan finds Andrea with Dale in the bathroom. She's sat on the floor, looking the smallest she's ever been, sniffing and wiping tears from her eyes while Dale tries to convince her it's not the end of the world.

Andrea's shaking her head and the look in her eyes is so unyielding. "Dale, didn't you see the look on Jenner's face? There's nothing left."

They both look up to see Logan standing awkwardly at the door. Andrea turns her body, her face, away from them. "Just leave me alone" she snaps.

Logan steps forward. "Andrea..."

"Just go!"

They leave her. Dale looks worriedly at her as he closes the door.

"There's nothing I can say," he admits to Logan, scratching at his white beard anxiously. "She won't listen to me. It's like she's given up."

"Give her time," Logan says. "Things will get easier."

"I've lost my wife," he tells Logan. "Now I've lost Amy. But I'm not losing her too."

"You won't."

"Do me a favour," he says. "If something happens to me, if I can't be there for her, will you take care of her for me? I can see you care about her."

Logan is taken aback. His lips part to answer and all he can say is "of course." He knows Andrea can take care of herself, he knows Andrea doesn't need him, but he says yes to make Dale feel better anyway. And he'll always have Andrea's back. That goes without saying.

Dale smiles at him and heads off down the corridor, slightly more content. Logan reluctantly goes back to his room alone. All he wants to do is dive into his bed and sleep.

And he sleeps like a baby, as soon as his head touches the pillow. It's as good as he thought it would be, the warmth of the covers, the softness of the pillow. Beats a tent or the hard ground any day.

But then there's a light at the door and Logan's not sure if he's dreaming or not. Someone's there. He sits up suddenly and his heart leaps in a panic.

"Is it alright if I come in?"

It's Andrea.

Logan nods sleepily, unsure what she's doing here. She comes and sits on the couch by him.

"Are you alright?" he asks her.

"No. I'm not. And I'm not here to talk either."

She seems nervous as she sits, as if she's deciding something. Logan watches her patiently, sees the pain still swimming in her bright blue eyes.

"Do you want me to get someone? Dale?" He offers.

Her jaw goes rigid. "No," she says. "I just want you to stop talking."

She kisses him, her lips pressing against his, knocking him back with surprise. She steadies him, her fingers wrapping around the back of his neck, and he relaxes in to her touch, kissing her in return. Her mouth is so soft. The way she touches him makes his hair stand on end. Goosebumps. He can't think if this makes sense, if this is right. All he thinks is that it feels good. She feels good, as she repositions herself to straddle him on the couch. He can hardly breathe as she busies herself with his lips, then moves her hands down to his bare chest, then down further until she's in his underwear.

He breaks the kiss, heart pounding and hormones raging. She's leaning over him, her face in the darkness so close to his, he can feel her trembling breath on his cheek. But he can see her eyes are still puffy from crying. He doesn't want to take advantage of her; he doesn't want to hurt her or put her at any more risk.

"Andrea," he whispers. "Are you sure you want this?"

He has to ask. He wouldn't forgive himself if he didn't make sure.

She leans closer, closes her eyes, and kisses him.


	12. Chapter 12 - Flashback

**Logan, before the outbreak**

The phone kept ringing. So eventually he had to pick it up.

"Logan. It's your father."

Every muscle in his body tensed.

The voice on the other end continued, "I know you don't want to speak to me but it's about your sister. We're at the hospital. She's sick. Really sick. There's some kind of infection going round and...I'm afraid she won't pull through this time. I think...she might be dying."

The sound of his father's voice, so scared, so tired, sounded foreign to Logan now. He held the phone close and for a few seconds, all that could be heard was breathing. And then Logan said, "Okay. I'll be there soon."

He hung up before his dad could say anything else.

He grabbed a bag and threw in some essentials before leaving his crappy one-bedroom apartment and spending his rent money on a flight to Atlanta.

A few hours later, he arrived.

The flight gave him time to think about the situation. After five years in a new city, scrounging to pay bills, leaping from job to job, avoiding his family out of shame...he was coming back to face them.

He was coming back to face his father, who he hated. And his sister...who was dying. He had to come, if not to just confirm that his father was telling the truth. But mostly...he had to see Ali. He had to make sure she was okay.

Logan had heard about some disease going around recently. No one was panicking yet – they had just been given some health and safety tips on the news. Few people had died, apparently. Others just got sick and feverish. Some turned violent, but things hadn't got out of control. Those who had it were quickly put in isolation. Otherwise, things were running like normal.

It was the same here. People in the streets were going about their business as normal. It looked just how he remembered.

Until he got to the hospital.

The waiting rooms were crammed full of tired, pale, sick people. A lot were standing, some with difficulty. Many looked dizzy and feverish. Others had visible wounds for some reason and were holding bloody towels and bandages to their skin.

"Some psycho bit me, right on the hand!" He heard a man complain to the nurses on the desk as they tried to get people to calm down.

Logan went straight to the receptionist and asked about his sister. The woman there looked pretty sick herself, swept off her feet, answering phones and filling in forms. A thin layer of sweat glazed her forehead.

"Just a moment, please," she told him, barely looking at him as she started frantically typing something out on the computer.

Logan was starting to get nervous. He'd never been fond of hospitals. He'd been enough times as a kid to visit Ali and even though he'd manage to cheer her up a little on some visits, other times he'd spend hour upon hour feeling sick with worry. That added to the feeling of general uneasiness brought on by the masses of sick people around him – not to mention the realisation that he was moments away from seeing the two people he'd abandoned years ago – he was starting to feel as sick as the people around him.

But this was something he had to do. No going back now.

"Logan?"

Logan held his breath as he heard the familiar voice say his name. This was it. He turned around slowly to see his father standing there.

"Hi, dad."

An awkward silence followed as the two examined each other. His father looked older. Much older even though it hadn't been _that_ long. His expression was hard to read. Straight-faced with brows furrowed, but his eyes looked...sad? Happy? Relieved? It was not the sternness Logan was used to seeing.

His father stepped forward and embraced him. "Look at you," he said softly. "All grown up."

Logan barely reacted. The hug was brief but felt like a lifetime. As they pulled apart, Logan looked at him with confusion. This was hardly the man he knew.

"You look well. Healthy," his father remarked. "You haven't caught whatever's going round at the moment?"

Logan shook his head. "No. I'm fine. Just show me where Ali is."

They started walking. Logan noticed many of the beds had been moved into the corridor, where the patients who were in them lay dazed and crying for help. Men, women, children were filling the corridors. Some sick and others just visiting, like him.

"Alexis will be glad to see you. She's missed you. I can tell."

"How is she?"

His father looked down and sighed. "Very weak. I've never seen her so bad. They're not sure what she's got but they're not ruling out...whatever this is!" He said, gesticulating to some of the half-conscious patients in the beds.

Logan paused as they got to the elevator. He stared at his father, who looked worn down and fatigued, the whites of his eyes discoloured and accompanied by a few unflattering bags underneath his lower lids. "How are you, dad?" He remembered hearing about his father's heart attack a while back and how all of this must not be helping his failing health.

Logan was expecting his dad might be mad at him for not visiting him while he was ill, but if he was he didn't show it. "I don't matter now," his father told him. "Only Alexis matters."

Logan kept that in his mind when they got to Ali's room. She was what mattered. Not Logan. Not the fact that he'd been missing from her life all this time. The focus was on Ali and praying that she get better.

His heart was racing when they got to her room. He and his father sterilised their hands before they went in. Then his father gestured for Logan to enter. A girl was lying in a bed, her long brown hair greasy and laid out over the pillow, her face ghostly white and dotted with sweat. She was struggling to breathe. Logan could hear her lungs straining for air through her dry, cracked lips. She looked half dead already.

This was not his sister.

How could she be? Ali was young and full of life. She was pretty and colourful and tough as nails. Who was this weak, dying girl in front of him?

She stirred, hearing movement, and when she turned towards them Logan's heart could have stopped completely. Her eyes opened, bloodshot but still blue, mirroring his. She was too weak to react, but she could still speak.

"Logan?"

Then he knew it was her. He could have cried, could have screamed. His baby sister was lying here dying and there wasn't a damn thing he could do.

"It's me. I'm here." He took up a chair next to her, watching her.

She rearranged herself gently so her head was comfortably facing him. "Am I dreaming?"

"No. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

He put his hand over hers. She was so cold.

"I don't think we're meant to touch her," their father said by the door.

Logan ignored him. This was the first contact he'd had with his sister in a long time. He didn't care if he got sick too. Ali smiled at him.

"Thank you for coming." She closed her eyes, still smiling, and continued to rest there.

"I'm so sorry, Ali,'" he whispered, unsure if she could still hear him. "I'm so sorry.'


	13. Chapter 13 - Logan

**Logan**

At breakfast, things are much quieter. That's because if anyone makes any noise, Glenn groans and covers his face with his hands. He swears to never drink like that again.

Logan pulls up a chair next to him and Glenn moans at the screeching noise it makes on the floor.

"Dude. Please."

Logan chuckles. "Sorry, man. Sure you don't want any powdered eggs?"

"I'm telling you. I do 'em gooood." T-Dog places some on the table in front of Glenn. But Glenn goes green and Jacqui gives him a hug, laughing softly.

Logan grins and pours himself a glass of orange juice. He helps himself to eggs and starts shoving it in his mouth. He hasn't had a cooked breakfast in forever. Probably not since he lived with his dad. But it tastes damn good even if it is powdered.

Everyone else gathers around the table, helping themselves to the assortment of goodies in the centre. Logan notices Andrea sitting a few seats away from him. She doesn't even look at him.

Dale pulls up a chair right next to Logan.

"Morning," Dale says.

"Morning, Dale," says Logan, trying to catch Andrea's eye. When he woke up that morning, Andrea had gone. They hadn't spoken since last night.

"How are you?" Dale questions him. "I mean after last night?" He lowers his voice. "No headaches? No regrets?"

Logan starts chewing a little slower. Why does he feel like Dale is grilling him for something?

"Why?" he says. He glances at the others. Rick and Shane are discussing something, other smaller conversations are going on.

"I saw Andrea leaving your room this morning," explains Dale with a frown, then his tone is more accusatory. "I trusted you. When I asked you to look after her, I didn't mean take advantage. I pegged you differently, Logan."

Logan almost chokes on his food. He swallows hard. "It wasn't like that, Dale. Nothing happened."

"Why should I believe you?"

"She stayed in my room last night, yes. But it's not what you think. You don't have to believe me."

He doesn't expect Dale to believe him, but it _is_ the truth. Logan suspects that Andrea coming in to his room last night was a way to regain control. She felt powerful kissing him, touching him, controlling him. But at some point, she realised that and they stopped. She slept next to him on the couch and that was all.

Dale furrows his heavy brows, eyes filled with some sort of fatherly concern. But that's just it. Dale isn't her father. And Logan tells him that.

"She can make her own decisions and I don't think Andrea would appreciate me discussing this with you behind her back," Logan says under his breath so Andrea doesn't hear. "What business is it of yours anyway?"

Dale huffs, clearly annoyed. He obviously feels some kind of bond with Andrea, a kind of protective instinct. But Logan at least knows her well enough by now that she wouldn't appreciate Dale interfering.

On some level though, he gets it. You form bonds with people, even if you barely know them. Logan hardly knows these people but he's come to care about all of them in some way. They've survived together. Saved each other.

Andrea saved him—twice—and he can't forget that. He hardly knows her but he cares for her just as much as Dale does. He isn't sure what last night meant, but there isn't time to figure out his feelings for her or her feelings for him. All he knows is that he's worried.

He worries during Jenner's whole display about Test Subject 19 and how the infection eradicated everything human in her brain, right up until she died. Until he shot her in the head.

He worries when Dale points out that the clock is steadily counting down and when they find out what this means. _Facility-wide decontamination_.

He worries when the lights power down and the air turn off and alarms start going off around the facility.

He worries when Jenner locks them in and tells them what happens when the clock counts down to zero and everyone's crying and shouting and trying to break down the doors.

This place is going up and they would all go up with it.

Daryl and Shane are pounding on the doors with axes, yelling. Carol and Lori are sitting, holding their kids, Carol's sobs filling the room. Logan just stands, numb. Unable to fight or cry. None of it is real. It's like a dream and anything he says or does is just futile.

Daryl threatens to take off Jenner's head and Rick, Dale and T-Dog have to push him away.

"You do want this," Jenner says, then he looks at Rick. "Last night you said you knew it was just a matter of time before everybody you loved was dead."

Everyone turns to stare at Rick accusingly.

"You said that?" Logan asks in disbelief. Just last night he was thanking the guy for bringing them here, and it turns out their new leader had no faith at all?

"After all your big talk?" Shane adds as if he's been betrayed.

"I had to keep hope alive, didn't I!" shouts Rick.

"There is no hope," Jenner says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "There never was."

"There's always hope," Rick retorts. "Maybe it won't be you, maybe not here, but somebody somewhere..."

"What part of 'everything is gone' do you not understand?" Andrea snaps from her position on the floor, hugging her knees close to her chest.

Logan stares at her. There's no hope left in her face, anywhere. For her it's over.

"Listen to your friend," Jenner tells Rick. "She gets it. This is what takes us down...this is our extinction event."

It's hard when someone tells you something you don't want to hear. When it comes from an experienced, well-informed scientist, telling you that the world is over and using phrases like "extinction event", it's like a crushing feeling of realisation. He must be right. He would know, wouldn't he?

But Logan can't accept it. Even if the world they know is gone, he can't just lie down and go down with it. He's still alive. They're still alive and that's all that matters.

And all he wants to do right now is punch Jenner in the face for telling them otherwise. But Shane beats him to it, holding a shotgun at Jenner's head, demanding he let them out. He's screaming like a wild animal and Rick's trying to get him to stop, and then the gun goes off again and again and again into computers and monitors and bits of machinery that explode and shower them with sparks.

Everyone dives for cover, holding their heads, yelling – until Rick gets the gun off him and knocks Shane down.

Then everyone is quiet, looking at each other, and it's even worse than the screaming and gunshots.

Until Rick gets Jenner to change his mind.

Test Subject 19 was Jenner's wife. The patient he shot when she got infected. That's why he was doing this. He's grieving, like Andrea, like Logan, like all of them. To him the world is over.

But for the rest of them it's not. Rick convinces him to open the doors, but he warns that it's useless. Topside is still locked down. That doesn't stop people from running. They start scrambling towards the doors, pulling at each other.

"Come on, let's go!"

"Hey! We've got four minutes left!" yells Glenn. "Let's go!"

Logan starts heading for the door, following everyone else, the adrenaline and fear making him sick. He looks for Andrea.

T-Dog's pulling Jacqui along when she announces she's staying and she pushes him back, everyone stopping in their tracks.

She doesn't want to end up like Jim and Amy. She's made up her mind. She tells them to go. Shane pulls T-Dog back and the rest start running.

Logan just wants to find Andrea and get her out of this horrible room. He calls her name. Dale's behind him and he points towards her. She hasn't moved. She's still standing there.

"I'm staying too."

"Andrea, don't do this. There isn't time for this," says Logan. His heart is beating so fast he can feel it in every limb, every vein. He's terrified.

"Andrea, no!" Dale says, horrified. They watch as Andrea sits back down.

The others are hanging at the door, waiting impatiently. Dale tells them to go.

Logan heads over to her, holds his hand out. "Come on. We're leaving." When Andrea doesn't move, he adds: "Please."

She looks up at him. Her eyes so large, so tragic. There's so much in them – so much pain. He can see her parents, her sister, her whole life. Destroyed. Just from the way she looks at him.

"This isn't what Amy would want for you!" Dale tells her desperately.

"She's dead," Andrea says. "And you need to leave. Both of you."

Logan doesn't know how he's keeping so calm, but he forces himself to. Inside are a million voices screaming at him, telling him that if he doesn't go now, he'll be dead. In three minutes. But on the outside, he's still, he's quiet. He's learnt to control his emotions. She's calm, so Logan's calm too. Shouting at her won't change her mind.

"Andrea," he breathes.

"Time's almost up," says Andrea, glancing at the clock.

"Dale, you go," says Logan. "I'll get her out."

"I'm not leaving her!" argues Dale.

"Please, Dale. I've got this."

"I can't. If Andrea stays, I stay."

Andrea shakes her head. "Don't pull this, Dale."

"Dale," Logan walks up to him. "Let me talk to her. You wait for us outside, be ready. I'll get her out. I promise. There isn't time to argue."

Dale's shaking his head, looking at Andrea fearfully. But then he turns around and runs and Logan kneels down across from Andrea.

"You're going to get yourself killed," she says coldly. "Over me."

"Some people are worth dying for." Logan smiles warmly. She doesn't smile back.

"Andrea." He says her name softly, like he's speaking to an old friend rather than someone he met just a few weeks ago. "I know what it's like. I told you about my sister." He pauses, remembering Ali. His funny, fiery sister who hated him. Her wonderful personality, her strength, her laughter – all gone. "It's the only thing you have on your mind. It's lonely I know," he says gently, the anguish blocking in his throat. "When you found me, I felt how you feel right now. Lost. Hopeless. Angry. Alone." Those days after Ali died all burned in to one. Endless hours of wandering – hungry, alone. Waiting. waiting until the torment ended and the crying stopped. "I was ready to die too. And then you found me, Andrea. You saved me."

She looks up, her eyes welling with tears.

"I'm with you. I can help you. Let me help you like you helped me."

She shakes her head. "I have nothing," she whispers. "Nothing left."

"You have us," Logan tells her. "We all started out with nothing. Give yourself a chance to build _something_."

"I don't know if I can," she cries.

"You can. _We all can_. It's not over yet. Please, just come with me."

Sitting here with her, being honest with her, he almost forgets that the clock is counting down. Almost. Because as soon as Andrea stands up, he's grabbing her hand and pulling her to safety, running, running until they see daylight.

Until all they see and hear is fire.


	14. Chapter 14 - Flashback P2

**Logan, before the outbreak**

Logan sat there next to Ali for a while, until things started getting more hectic in the wards. More people were coming in with feverish symptoms, putting the hospital on high alert. They weren't sure how the disease was spreading, so they decided to put patients into quarantine. Including Alexis.

They came in to take her away while their dad went home to pick up a few things for Ali. Logan wasn't allowed near her anymore. He could only look at her through a screen. And even though he didn't pray much anymore, he prayed for her.

The TV was buzzing away in the background, news reports of the infection dominated the channels. Logan wasn't really listening. Then he saw images of the military moving in around the country.

"Excuse me," he asked one of the nurses passing him. He pointed to the TV. "Do you know what this is about? They're bringing in the army."

"I don't know," she said. She sounded like she had been crying. Logan noticed she had bite marks on her arm.

"Are you okay?"

"Just trouble with a patient," she said. "I'm sorry, I have to go."

She rushed past him, her hand on her sore arm. Logan looked out into the corridor. He saw with horror that many of the patients that had been left out here had sheets over their heads.

Whatever this was, it was taking over. Killing more and more people, and swiftly too.

He looked through the screen at Ali. She had his back to him. He knew it was only a matter of time for her now. She couldn't survive this. Not this.

Then he heard a commotion outside – patients and visitors starting to panic, gathering at the exits and demanding that the hospital staff let them out. There was a large crowd by the main entrance downstairs when Logan went to investigate. People yelling and crying and murmuring to each other. But it was pretty clear, as Logan's attention was brought on to the police cars and flashing lights outside, no one was getting in or out.

With a shaking hand, Logan called his dad to tell him the news. But he wasn't answering. Logan left a message on his machine.

"Dad...it's me. Don't come back to the hospital. It's been quarantined. No one's allowed in or out. I'm not sure what's happening... I...I'm getting pretty scared right now. But don't worry. I won't leave Ali." He swallowed hard. "Just call me back please."

He looked back at his sister. A nurse was checking on her. She had a mask and gloves on. When she came out, her face was filled with sympathy and Logan knew it wasn't good news.

"She hasn't got much longer."

The words were like pins being shoved into his chest. He pushed back his tears desperately. He needed to be strong. For his sister. For the first time in years, he needed to be there for her.

He had to say goodbye.

He was given some kind of hazmat suit to protect him from any possible transmission of the disease. The doctors still weren't sure how it was spread, and they had decided that Ali must have caught it somehow. The suit was a precaution if nothing else. But Logan hated it. He wanted to be with his sister, not look and talk to her through a suit. But it was better than staring at her through a window several metres away.

He leant over her and held her hands with his gloved ones. "Ali..."

"Dad? Where's dad?" She murmured, eyes half closed.

Logan took a deep breath. "It's me. Logan."

"Logan. You're here." She sounded glad.

"That's right. I'm here."

"Where have you been?" She coughed and spluttered and looked up at him, frowning.

"Nowhere. I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere."

A tear fell from one of her eyes. "I missed you."

"I missed you too. More than anything. I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"I tried to call." She began to whimper, as if in pain.

"Shhh. Save your strength. It's okay."

"I'm dying."

"It's okay."

"Logan, it's not okay." This seemed more like Ali. Assertive. Bossy, even. But it just made Logan sad. "I'm dying. Everyone's dying. I know what's going on."

Screams erupted from outside the room. People were running. The nurses went to see what was happening. More screaming. Logan knelt by Ali's bed.

"Ali. Something's happening out there."

"You need to get out of here," she said.

"I can't. The hospital's on lockdown. No one can leave."

At that moment, Logan heard gunfire coming from outside. His heart raced. He was starting to sweat. He looked out the window and saw masses of people running out, screaming. Men in military uniform were standing with the police, shooting them all.

Logan stumbled back, almost tripping over Ali's bed. "Jesus. They're killing people out there!"

He tore off his mask so he could breathe properly. He thought he was hyperventilating. They were shooting people, innocent people.

Ali closed her eyes and took a few breaths as if it required all her energy to do so. "You need to find a way out."

"How?"

"The fire escape. You can climb down in to the alley."

"What about you?" Logan was breathing fast. "I'm not leaving you."

"You have to. I'm already dead."

"Don't say that."

"You know I am."

He was trying to stop the tears, the realisation that she was right. If they did get out, she couldn't survive like this.

"I can't."

A thump of a body against the door frame alerted them.

"What the?" Logan said, appalled. It was a person. But they looked rabid. Dead-eyed. Dark rings around them. Pale skin. And something gooey and bloody was hanging out of their mouth. It was like it wasn't human.

"Oh my God."

It slapped its hands against the protective screen, growling like a crazy animal. It was trying to get to them.

"What do you want?" Logan yelled. "Get back!"

"Logan..."

"It's okay, I'm here."

"Logan, more are coming," she said weakly. She was right. Logan could see more in the corridor.

"You've got to go. Find dad and make sure he's okay. Tell him I love him."

"Ali..."

"Just go!"

"I'm not leaving you again!"

"I don't want you here!" She yelled as loudly as she could manage. "If I'm going to die, I want to die on my own."

"You don't mean that."

"You left! You cut any ties you had with us. Now it takes me dying for you to show your face again? Well, tough. You can't check in and out of someone's life when it suits you."

"Alexis?"

"Just get out of here!" Tears spilled down her face. Then she screwed up her face in pain.

"Ali!" Logan ran to her, more infected people were against the screen, banging their hands against it

and wailing. "Ali?"

Her eyes were closed. She wasn't responding. "No, no, no. Ali!"

He had to get help.

He opened the door and closed it behind him. The rabid people were coming for him. He pushed them out of the way.

"Help! I need help!"

He ran to the corridor, panting. And then he froze.

The dead patients from before, lying on their cots, were now sitting up, the sheets still on their heads, waving their arms about slowly.

There were people running.

"Can someone help?! My sister..."

He heard a scream. Turning a corner, he saw a doctor on the floor screaming as someone, a nurse, was over her, biting a chunk out of her neck. Blood spurted everywhere. The doctor's shrieks died down and the nurse turned to face him.

He recognised her. The nurse with bite marks on her arm.

"Oh..." He stepped back. "Stay away!"

She was heading towards him. She looked like the other two. Sick. Crazy. Dead, even. But she couldn't be. Here she was moving around, eating people.

 _Eating_ people!

He ran back towards Ali's room, but a crowd was in the corridor now, all like the nurse, all gradually moving towards him. All growling and rasping and holding their arms out like they wanted a bite out of him too.

He backed up in to the nurse, who tried to grab him, but her grip was weak and Logan managed to wriggle away from her.

The window. He ran for it and managed to pry it open and climb out. The cool air hit him suddenly, helping him breathe again. Then he looked back towards the ward. To where his sister was and he couldn't move. Was he really leaving her? Even if she was dead?

There was no hope for her now. She was gone. No one could help. So either he go now like she told him or he die with her.

The diseased were getting closer. They were like mindless bodies, edging towards him, blocking every exit. He couldn't get back to her now.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Then he began to jog down the steps, tearing off the gloves and suit they'd given him and throwing it over the railing.

Other people had had the same idea, climbing down the steps in a frenzy, pushing each other frantically. People were falling from the floors above, plummeting past him and screaming until they hit the ground.

Logan breathed hard. His body was on fire, pulsing with energy. He had to find a way out of this. There was a crowd of people in front of him on the steps, blocking the way. People were yelling and pushing each other.

Then someone in the crowd started biting and scratching and everyone went crazy. Some tried to push past to get down, others shoved Logan to get back up. Some jumped.

Logan peered over the edge, trembling. It wasn't that far to the ground. He risked a broken leg, but he didn't relish the idea of being chewed to death either. So as people rocked the stairs and screamed and ran, Logan looped his legs over the barrier and jumped.

The pain radiated in his feet as he landed, but nothing had broken. There were many others running around in the darkness, in no particular direction. He looked around him frantically. He needed to find his father. Which way was home?

He paused, feeling the ground rumble beneath him. He watched as some people stopped in realisation. A tank had pulled up, some soldiers beside it.

Then they opened fire.


	15. Chapter 15 - Flashback P3

Everyone was screaming, falling, dying. Logan ran for an alley, narrowly missing several bullets as they whipped past him and bounced off the ground. His mind was loud with confused questions. _Why? Why were they doing this? What was happening?_

He couldn't breathe.

But he kept on running, his heart and throat and head hurting. He ran down the road through darkness. All the lights were out. The streets were full of people running, cars were accelerating past him. No one would stop.

Some people, he realised, were not people. They were like the creatures he had escaped from inside the hospital. They were infected. They were dead, like those patients in the hallways. Dead people that had come back to life.

It was impossible.

Things were a bit quieter when he got to his old neighbourhood in the suburbs. Some families were packing up, piling in to their cars as the inner city blew up in a panic.

Logan found his old house. He still recognised it. The front yard looked a little different, and the door was a different colour, but this was his house.

He knocked first. "Dad?" The door was open. "Dad!" He probably sounded more scared and desperate than he intended, but he couldn't control it now. He was shaking all over. His clothes were soaked from sweat. He could barely think straight.

The house looked similar to how he remembered it, with a few minor changes. Some furniture rearranged, a bigger TV, some new photos and paintings hanging up. It felt weird being back here, in the house where they'd had all those arguments, all those fights and miserable memories. But it seemed different now. It seemed like the people here were happy. Dad and Ali.

Then he remembered. Ali was gone.

She was actually gone.

How could he have just left her like that? Alone in that hospital with those...things? She was gone forever and he'd just abandoned her when she needed him most.

He crumpled to his knees and wept.

 _Stupid...useless..._

Five years apart and now it was forever. This was his fault.

As he cried, he heard a deep, guttural breathing in the next room. At first he thought it was snoring and that it must be his dad, so he got up and headed for the dining room. It was completely in shadow. Logan sniffed and squinted his eyes, trying to see.

"Dad? Are you in here?"

Another snore. Then Logan listened again. It sounded closer.

And it wasn't a snore.

A heavy figure launched at him, pinning Logan to the floor. The creature leered over his face, growling and snapping with his teeth.

It was his dad.

Stunned, Logan stared at his father while he gnashed and bit and spat at him. It looked like he had been dead hours and his body just decided to get up and walk around.

He tried to push him away. "Dad! Stop! Get off!"

But the creature seemed to lack the ability to communicate, anything human completely eradicated. All it wanted to do was kill him.

He wished this wasn't happening. He hoped his dad would get off him, wipe down his face and say _"surprise!"_ while Logan stood there dumbfounded. But it _was_ happening. And whatever his dad was now, it wasn't the man who raised him and it definitely wasn't the man who greeted him at the hospital.

Logan squirmed beneath him. His father was strong. But whatever was possessing him was stronger. Logan looked desperately for something to fight back with.

He grabbed the nearest blunt object he could – a lamp from the coffee table – and smashed it against his father's head. The base broke into pieces against his skull and knocked him enough for Logan to push him off.

He scrambled to his feet. But the creature followed him up. Logan didn't know what to do next, except dodge him around the room, hoping he would stop.

Logan really didn't want to do what his instincts were telling him to do. He and his father had their differences, but he would never want to harm him.

He'd never kill him.

But it looked like he might have to before his father killed him first. Logan ran to the kitchen and rooted through the drawers until he found a knife. His father had followed him. He was drooling and slobbering and his glassy eyes peered at him hungrily. Logan found himself cornered in the kitchen.

"Don't make me use this," he said. "Dad? Please...don't make me."

His father's animated corpse charged him, arms flailing, baring his teeth like a wild cat about to chew on its prey. Logan held out the knife, the blade cutting in to his father's flesh, embedding deeply inside his body. Using his other hand, Logan held his dad's head away from him and flinched whenever he tried to bite him.

He wasn't going down. Logan, nauseated, removed the bloody knife and stabbed again in the chest. His eyes began to fill. The sight of stabbing his father, the sensation of feeling the knife go in, made his stomach turn.

But it wasn't working. Whatever had control of his father's body was still violently active. Logan had no choice. He withdrew the knife one more time and held it by his father's head. He had to. He would die if he didn't.

But it was still his father. He may have hated him once, but it was still the man who raised him, the man who took care of his sister all this time. He was still a man who deserved better than this.

Logan closed his eyes and let the knife sink in to his father's brain. It was slow at first. The creature began to back off, then Logan stabbed again harder. His father fell back, growling and gurgling until he fell to the floor and was silent, the knife sticking out of his head.

Then, Logan was sick.

He leant his face over the sink as the contents of his stomach spilled down the drain. The sight, the stench, made his stomach contract all the more.

He'd just killed his dad.

He rang 911. Engaged. He tried again. Engaged. Again. Engaged, engaged, engaged.

No one was coming to help him.

An hour must have passed before Logan had the heart to move his father. He pulled out the knife, black and red fluid squirting out as he retracted the blade, which almost made him sick again.

He just about managed to carry his father's weight onto the sofa and arrange him so he looked semi-human again. He placed a trembling hand over his father's lifeless eyes and closed the lids, like he was sleeping.

"What happened to you?" Logan whispered, on the verge of tears again. "What is happening to everyone?"

He noticed blood on his father's trouser leg. Something had wounded him, somehow. Could that have caused this? How could one moment his dad be completely fine, and the next, he was this?

He wandered around the house for a bit, numb, unsure what else to do. Then he went upstairs to his old room.

He didn't know why, he just felt like seeing it. His dad was dead, his sister was dead, so he might as well do what he wanted. He wrapped his fingers around the handle and gently pushed open his old door.

It...was a bedroom. There wasn't really any other way to describe it. Four walls, a window, a bed. What was he expecting? A shrine dedicated to him? No, it was just a bedroom. It looked like most of his stuff had been boxed up by now – a few boxes still remained around the room. Some of his old junk was left on his desk, but nothing important. Nothing really that reminded him of himself or the time he spent here.

But his sister's, that was a different story. He was expecting the walls to still be pink, for posters of Leonardo DiCaprio to still be spread across the walls, for her army of teddy bears to be stacked in a pile on her bed, staring back at him. But Ali had grown up since he left. The walls were now a cream colour, minimal posters, and only one teddy had remained unscathed on top of her pillow. Logan recognised him at least. Mr. Snuggles. He picked up Mr. Snuggles and sat on Ali's bed. Her covers had pictures of butterflies on, all different sizes and colours, all with their wings outstretched in mid-flight. He liked that. He liked the symbolism of these creatures, flying away, flying free. He hoped Ali was free now.

He noticed Ali had a few books in her bookcase, which surprised him because he never thought her to be a particularly big reader. It looked like she had been reading _Jane Eyre_ before she was admitted into hospital. Maybe that was one of the things his dad was going to collect for her when he left the hospital.

Everything had turned into such a mess.

He picked up the _Jane Eyre_ book miserably and threw it across the room, some of the old pages falling out and fluttering in the air. Then he noticed another book that had been underneath it. Her diary.

He hesitated at first, like it still mattered, like she was still alive. Then he picked it up and flicked through it.

It was nice at first, reading it. It was like hearing her voice again. The girl he knew. But then he saw he was mentioned a lot.

God. She hated him.

He deserved every word, every drop of ink on the page. Her words were true, and it hurt him. He was reading every word like she hoped he would one day, and it stung like hell. He wished he had never put her through that. He should have sacrificed his happiness for hers. He should have taken care of her.

He should have done so many things. But it was too late now.

He sat there for a bit whilst chaos ensued outside. Screams. Gun shots. Logan looked out the windows to see people running and driving away, leaving bodies lying in the street. It looked pretty bad out there. Should he leave too?

Leave and go where? He had nobody. Nowhere. He probably wouldn't be able to get back to his apartment even if he wanted to. He was on his own now. He had to make it by himself even if it meant staying here.

But how long could he last here, really? The city was gone. He had to face the reality. This disease, infection, whatever it was, was taking over. If he stayed, he risked dying too. The phone wasn't working, the TV, the radio – there was nothing. He had to figure it out himself.

Who knows, maybe there was an evacuation camp or something?

Grabbing his rucksack from the armchair where his dad had left it, he started to throw some bits and pieces in. Bottles of water, napkins, a packet of cookies and some chips for the trip. He already had essentials such as clothes and cash. He didn't know how long this was going to go on for, or how much he would need. He just hoped that when he set foot out of that door, there would be something out there for him. Some hope.

He swung the bag onto his back and headed downstairs, staring at his dad on the couch and trying to swallow the lump in the back of his throat.

He kept thinking: _I can't do this. I can't do this._

Then he thought of his sister, and how if she were here she would know what to do. Even in her youth and inexperience, she would just know. She sees what needs to be done and she does it. She would have done it. She wouldn't have been afraid.

So he decided not to be afraid either. He headed for the door and clocked the crucifix above the frame, holding Jesus Christ's bruised and battered body. He stared at it for a moment as he heard the terrifying noises of panic from outside appear to get louder, remembering all the times their father had made them go to church, all the times he'd made them pray before going to bed.

All for the man who had died and come back to life.

Logan felt the chuckle come up from his throat like bile.

Then he ran. Away from the city, away from the screams. He sprinted past others. Families, desperately trying to get out. He tripped over bodies. He dodged the infected, saw people stabbing each other in the streets. Gunfire was still echoing from the city centre, fires starting. Logan could see it, the higher he got, the further away he was.

There was a queue of cars leading out from Atlanta. People were getting impatient, honking their horns or getting out and arguing with each other, some abandoning their cars completely and leaving on foot. They were waiting for someone to do something. For the government to do something.

And then they did.

They set the city on fire.


	16. Chapter 16 - FINALE

**Alexis**

The air fills her lungs like an anvil being removed from her chest. She breathes, and the light floods through her, the relief.

She was dead. She was dying, wasn't she? But now she's awake and her eyes are open, her brain and body alert. There's no more pain.

She's still in bed, in the hospital. It's hard to tell how long she's been here, but nobody seems to be around.

Then she sees the blood and hand prints on the observation window outside of her room.

She sees the bodies, some still and others moving. They aren't people. She knows that much. She knows she's in danger here.

She gets out of bed and her muscles feel strange at first. They ache. But then she gets used to it.

She can't remember her mouth ever being this dry.

She immediately thinks of her brother and how she told him to leave her. She's glad he listened.

And now she must find him.

She finds her clothes, collects whatever belongings she has, including a little necklace of the Virgin Mary left on her bedside table. She isn't sure who left it for her, but she puts it on anyway. Maybe Mary will bring her luck for whatever comes next.

She knows it's a miracle she's alive, and that whatever is outside her room will likely kill her anyway. She doesn't know what the world is like now.

But she knows she is going to find out.

 **End of Season 1**


End file.
